


Somewhere in the Middle of Nowhere

by romanticalgirl



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship, Midtown, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Multi, Waycest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-01
Updated: 2010-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-23 10:43:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes tours take an unexpected turn</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere in the Middle of Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[**inlovewithnight**](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/) in the [](http://waysplusone.livejournal.com/profile)[**waysplusone**](http://waysplusone.livejournal.com/) challenge.

  
At first he thinks it’s because he hasn’t slept in four days except for catnaps here and there, but then he realizes that it isn’t _him_. It’s just fucking _weird_. Even weirder because it’s not like this is the first time he’s met the Ways. He’s known them for years; hey hung out in Jersey and did the whole scene thing together from time to time – well, he and Mikey did that, Gerard sort of…lurked in the background, dragged along by Mikey to concerts and parties so he could spend his time sulking in the corner with a beer or seven.

Of course, now that he thinks about _that_ , fucking weird fits that too, because Mikey and Gerard never so much as exchanged a word during every interaction that Gabe can remember (which isn’t a lot, to be honest, because much of Jersey is lost in a fog of alcohol thicker than the acrid air). It was just like they _knew_ shit and when Mikey was ready to go, Gerard was already at the door.

But right now, in his haze of alcohol, insomnia and the fact that the only thing he’s had to eat in two days is a granola bar and three Jell-O shots, Gabe realizes that it’s not just some sibling thing or some born-at-different-times-but-still-freakishly-like-twins thing. Except that it is.

“You’re fucking reading each other’s minds.” Gabe eats a potato chip and then stops to lick the salt off his lips and his fingers and then grab another handful. Food is _awesome_. “You’ve got some psychically linked, science fiction, creepy gothic incest story connection and you’re using it to communicate and I think that’s pretty fucked because A – I don’t get to hear what you’re thinking and B – If you get powers like that I should be able to fucking set shit on fire or something and C – Stop talking about me.”

Gerard blinks at him in that slow exaggerated way he has and takes Gabe’s beer. It’s a sign of how tired he is that Gabe misses when he tries to grab it back. His coordination is for _shit_ when he’s like this. Mikey’s eyebrows are practically up to his hairline and his fingers are curled tight around the handle of his coffee mug. Mikey just woke up, Gabe hasn’t been to sleep and nobody’s got any fucking clue what day it is. God, he loves touring.

Gabe sets his beer on the coffee table and leans back against the couch. It’s the shittiest hotel room ever, but right now it feels like the fucking Four Seasons, because it doesn’t have four wheels and it’s not fucking _moving_. Mikey’s sitting on the edge of the bed and Gerard’s on the floor beside Mikey’s feet, leaning back on the mattress. Gabe’s not sure whose room there in – if it’s even theirs – but he can’t manage to care.

Gerard leans forward and grabs Gabe’s bottle, drinking the rest of the beer, which Gabe is pretty sure is like throwing down a fucking gauntlet, and licks his lips. Gabe gets stuck on that for a moment, completely forgetting about the beer, because Gerard, when he wants to, can be downright obscene with his tongue, and it seems a lot like right now he wants to. Or Gabe wants him to. Shit. Living in a van with six guys fucking _sucks_ sometimes. All you can think about is getting laid. Not that he doesn’t do that when he lives on his own in his apartment or in his parents’ basement, but whatever. Here. Now. Gerard. Tongue. Fuck, he’s got a hard-on.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit.” He gets up to get another beer out of the mini-fridge and shift his fucking dick because all of a sudden his hamster-wheel of a brain is stuck on wondering if Gerard was in Mikey’s head the night Gabe and Mikey were beneath the stage in that old run-down club during the Rorschach and Dog Eat Dog double bill. He shakes his head to get the vision out of it, even though it lingers like an echo. “You guys are thinking at each other so loud, I can almost hear it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Mikey informs him.

“Yeah, neither does fucking telepathy or the rise of Good Charlotte, and yet.” He grabs three more beers and a bottle of vodka for good measure and sits back on the sofa. “So. Talk. Out loud. To _me_.”

Mikey shrugs and taps his finger on the table before snagging the vodka. “We could talk about how sleep deprivation does weird shit to your brain.”

“Or we could discuss how you should already know that if we _did_ have powers and we told you, we’d have to kill you.”

“And if we killed you, the rest of your band would be pissed at us.”

“And come after us like Frankenstein’s monster.”

“And I don’t know how to play the violin.”

Gabe’s gaze ping-pongs between them, stopping on Mikey at the last comment. “I hate you guys so much right now.”

Gerard shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No,” Mikey chimes in as he moves around the table to sit beside Gabe. “You don’t.”

“How do you know?” Gabe smirks. “You some kind of mind reader?”

“Trying to trick us into telling you?” Gerard moves as well, settling on Gabe’s other side. “Give us a little credit.”

“No.” Gabe pouts, looking slowly from one to the other.

Mikey leans in, his breath grazing Gabe’s shoulder. “You don’t _really_ hate us, do you, Gabe?”

“I really do.” There’s no conviction in his voice, mostly because he doesn’t hate them at all, especially when Mikey’s fingers are tugging at his collar to expose his neck and Gerard’s hand is stroking a path along up and down the length of his thigh. “A lot.”

“Really?” Gerard slides Gabe’s zipper down. “Because that’s not-”

“-how it feels,” Mikey finishes for him, his teeth sinking lightly into Gabe’s earlobe. “It feels like-”

“-you like us.” Gerard’s fingers free Gabe’s button and guide his jeans open. “A lot.”

“Okay, that’s kinda…” He breaks off to gasp as Gerard’s hand wraps around his dick, and Mikey starts sucking the sting from his bite. “Shit….shit. Kinda…kinda freaking me out.”

“You want us to stop?”

Gabe’s not sure who says it, but it doesn’t change the answer. “No. Fuck, no. Don’t…don’t stop.” He slouches down on the cushions, pushing the table back toward the bed with his feet as he spreads his legs to give Gerard room to move. Gerard slips off the seat, between Gabe’s thighs, still stroking.

“Hips up,” Mikey murmurs, and Gabe obliges by bracing his feet and arching his hips off the seat. Gerard releases Gabe and tugs his jeans down to the floor, settling easily back between his knees, taking Gabe’s cock in his hand again.

Gabe turns his head and finds Mikey’s mouth, burying a groan against his tongue. Mikey kisses him back, his hand moving down Gabe’s chest and sneaking under his shirt, fingers scraping over the dark hairs on his stomach. Mikey lets his hand slide down further, grazing along Gabe’s dick, slipping through the wet hint of precome before reaching out and painting Gerard’s lips with it.

“Holy fuck,” Gabe breathes roughly as Gerard licks his lips then catches Mikey’s fingers, sucking on them. “ _Fuck_.”

“Can’t. Don’t have stuff,” Mikey shrugs, bringing his damp fingers back along Gabe’s length. “Besides, you won’t last for both of us.”

Gabe’s head falls back against the seat, and he groans roughly as Gerard leans in, following the trail of Mikey’s fingers with his mouth. “Oh…fuck.” Gerard’s mouth is hot and wet, his tongue pressing Gabe against the roof of his mouth with rough suction.

Mikey’s breath is hot and shallow, shaking against Gabe’s skin. “So hot. Just how you like it, yeah? Taste so good, Gabe.”

“Fuck. Fuck, Mikey.” He kisses him, hard and hungry, tongue thrusting deep to match the rhythm of Gerard’s mouth on him. Mikey groans around Gabe’s tongue, one knee trapped behind Gabe’s back, pinning him there as he grinds against Gabe’s hip.

“C’mon,” Mikey gasps, and Gabe’s not sure if it’s his encouragement of Gerard’s. Gabe pushes Mikey back, watching as he sprawls on the seat before reaching out, fingers scrabbling at Mikey’s fly. Mikey helps, pushing his jeans and boxer-briefs down quickly so Gabe can wrap his hand around him. Mikey groans and hisses a low breath of pleasure at his touch.

Gerard’s hand runs along Mikey’s thigh and Gabe shudders, losing control. He comes hard before he can manage to say anything, and Gerard pulls back, gasping for breath. Gabe shifts to lie against Mikey, working his had faster and tighter. Gerard moves up to kiss Mikey and Gabe’s hips jerk, watching as Gerard’s damp and swollen lips capture Mikey’s mouth.

“Fuck,” Gabe groans. “Fucking…killing me.”

Gerard laughs against Mikey’s mouth, a thick giggle that they keep between them for a moment. It fills the room as he moves away, crawling the short distance to Gabe and kissing him as well. Mikey huffs out a breath at the sight, coming in Gabe’s fist. Gerard raises an eyebrow and reaches for Gabe’s hand, freeing it from Mikey’s cock and bringing it to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean.

Gabe kicks at the table, shoving it back further, not even caring as the vodka bottle tips over, spilling clear liquid on the already questionable floor. He pushes Gerard down, crowding in to kiss him. Mikey joins them, all of them a tangle of denim and skin as Mikey helps strip Gerard’s jeans down.

“So hard, Gee,” Mikey murmurs, stroking Gerard’s cock as he leans in. Gabe’s fairly sure any verbal communication is for his benefit, but he doesn’t care, doesn’t need the words, as he settles next to Mikey and slides his tongue along Gerard’s length.

“R-re-reading my m-mind, Sa-Saporta,” Gerard groans.

“Must be contagious.” Gabe laughs roughly, shuddering as Mikey’s mouth joins his, their tongues meeting against Gerard’s skin. Gerard’s hips jerk off the floor and he fists a hand in Gabe’s hair.

Mikey takes Gabe’s hand in his, curling both around the base of Gerard’s cock. Gabe feels the responding pulse against his tongue as they start stroking, and Gerard’s head thumps back, loud against the floor. “Fucking _fuck_ ,” he moans roughly, thrusting up, arching off the floor as he comes. He whimpers low in his throat, still thrusting as Gabe and Mikey lick him clean, tongues tangling on wet, slick skin.

Gabe finally slumps against Gerard’s hip, nuzzling against his stomach beneath his black t-shirt. “Fuck.”

“Mmm,” Gerard nods, stroking his fingers through Gabe’s hair as Mikey settles against his other hip. Gabe can feel Mikey’s breath skating across Gerard’s abdomen, faltering just at Gabe’s lips. “Next hotel night maybe.”

“Yeah,” Gabe nods. “Maybe.” He’s quiet for a moment, reaching over to touch Mikey’s lower lip. “You guys really can read each other’s minds, right?”

Mikey doesn’t respond, giving Gabe nothing more than a crooked eyebrow and an enigmatic smile before he closes his eyes.  



End file.
